


A Right Turn Gone Wrong

by likeasugarcube



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Hair-pulling, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:19:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeasugarcube/pseuds/likeasugarcube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete thought it was one of his more brilliant pranks. Unfortunately, payback's a bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Right Turn Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naotalba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naotalba/gifts).



The thing was, it seemed like a _hilarious_ idea at the time. Stealing all of Patrick's hats and leaving him with the bright pink one Pete had found at a thrift store, that is. He'd known it would come in handy one day. In preparation he'd borrowed some glitter paint from his sister and added some --shall we say, _embellishments_. It was one of his more brilliant pranks.

Patrick fails to see the humor in the situation.

"Aw, come on Rick. Don't be like that. You have to admit it was a pretty good prank."

"I had to go _on stage_ with a glittery dick on my hat."

Pete tries not to laugh, really. It's just. It's still really funny the next day. He can't help himself.

"Yeah? Let's see how funny you think it is when you're not getting laid."

"Dude, that's not..." he reaches out, putting a hand on Patrick's shoulder but Patrick shoves him off before Pete's barely touched him.

"Not for a week, Pete. And if I catch you jerking off I'll make it longer."

Pete pouts non-stop for the rest of the day. It was possible that he'd underestimated the consequences of his actions. He knew Patrick could be down right mean when he got angry. But honestly, did Patrick seriously think he was going to be exempt from pranks just because they were dating? The punishment was vastly worse than the crime. 

Later that evening, he tries to find a little sympathy from Joe, who at the time had _totally encouraged_ when Pete was plotting his prank.

"A week, Joe! A week!"

"Dude. You need to stop talking. Like right now. The less I know about your sex life the better, okay?"

Patrick's mostly forgiven him by the forth day. He lets Pete rest his head on his shoulder while they're in the van, lets Pete sleep next to him at night. But any time Pete's hands start to wander, he puts a stop to it within a matter of seconds.

"Remember what I said, Pete," a stern tone to his voice.

Pete wakes up one morning, a cramp in his neck from sleeping in the van, and reaches for his phone. He checks the date. It's officially been a week and one day.

_Fuck yes_ , he thinks. It doesn't matter what else happens today. It's going to be a fucking great day. He climbs over into the back seat, thankful that Joe and Andy are up front as he snuggles up next to Patrick. 

"G'morning," he whispers, nuzzling the side of Patrick's face.

"It's almost noon," Patrick tells him. "And ugh, brush your teeth. Your breath smells like something died."

Pete rummages around for a bottle of water and digs his tooth brush out of his duffel bag. He leans over Joe and spits out the passenger window when they come to a stop light. 

"Thanks for that," Joe says. 

"Dental hygiene is very important, Trohman." He sits back next to Patrick and asks, "Better?"

"Eh, I'll live."

Pete catches the side of his mouth in a kiss and while Patrick doesn't kiss back, he also doesn't try to push him away. Pete counts it as a win. He also counts it as a win when an hour later, he's got his head in Patrick's lap, Patrick's fingers stroking lazily through his hair. He makes a happy sound and turns his head just enough to press a kiss to Patrick's stomach. Patrick doesn't say anything but Pete can see the smallest of smiles on his lips.

When they stop for lunch a half hour later, everyone is starving. Pete included. But even more than food he wants to get Patrick pressed up against a wall somewhere, preferably with his pants down. 

"I missed you," Pete says as they climb out of the van.

"Yeah, I figured you would," Patrick says with a smirk as they walk inside.

Pete inhales his two slices of pizza and slides over next to Patrick. Underneath the table and out of sight from the others, Pete curls a hand around his knee. He inches higher and higher, until his fingers are rubbing along the inside of his thigh, and Pete can tell Patrick's doing his best not to squirm in his seat.

"Fuck _off_ , Pete," Patrick says, eventually. Pete moves back to give him space, but also makes the best sad puppy eyes he can manage. Patrick's voice is a little softer when he says, "Just wait until I'm done with my pizza."

Pete knows he can't push too hard or Patrick will get pissed off and make him wait even longer, but he can't help it. He's impatient. He's got eight fucking days worth of pent up frustration. He sighs and leans his head against Patrick's shoulder, one hand creeping up to rub the back of his neck.

When Patrick finally -- _finally_ \-- finishes eating, he takes a long drink from his soda, wipes his mouth off on a napkin and says, "Okay," as he turns to look at Pete. "Which way are the bathrooms?"

Joe groans and mumbles, "I don't want to know."

Pete's already up from the table, leading Patrick by the hand towards the men's restroom.

"Be back in fifteen minutes. We're on a schedule," Andy calls after them. "And don't get caught."

The men's room is thankfully empty. He pushes Patrick up against the row of sinks and kisses him hard. Patrick still tastes like pizza sauce and sprite but Pete doesn't even care at this point.

"We got caught that _one time_ ," Pete says between kisses. "He should really let it go."

"We were in South Carolina, Pete. We could have gotten the shit beaten out of us. On top of the jail time." Patrick's hands are resting at his waist, sliding underneath his t-shirt. Today is a great day. 

"You're less illegal here." Pete grins and nips at his earlobe. Their next show is in Pittsburgh and they don't have too much further to go. They crossed from West Virginia into Pennsylvania while Pete was asleep. Even the laws are in Pete's favor today. Seriously. Today is the best day.

"Wow, that's so romantic." Patrick rolls his eyes and pushes Pete off of him. "Get in a stall before someone walks in on us."

Pete gets him pushed up against the stall as soon as the door is locked. He also manages to get both of their zippers undone and their jeans shoved down in record time. 

"Please, please," he murmurs against Patrick's throat, as he grinds against him. "Please, I've been waiting so long."

"Okay," Patrick whispers. "Okay." He pushes gently at Pete's shoulders until there's enough room between them for him to shove down his boxers.

"Get on your knees."

"Patrick, come on." They don't have a lot of time and Patrick doesn't need to be wasting what they do have by being a jerk.

"What? We can go back to the van if you don't want to."

From the look on his face, Pete can tell he's totally serious. Which is so unfair. Patrick knows how much Pete hates giving head. It's the one thing he could never get used to. There's no doubt in Pete's mind that this is further payback for the prank. Because Patrick is the one guy who has never been an asshole about this. Until now.

"Or I guess, if you think you can wait a little longer, I'll let you fuck me before the show," Patrick says, adding, "if there's time," after a moment. 

Because they never know what kind of clusterfuck they're going to run into when they're loading in or sound-checking. They could have two hours to kill or they could barely have two minutes. And even if they were guaranteed to have time, Pete's pretty certain that he _can't_ wait any longer. If he doesn't get off by the time he leaves this bathroom there's the distinct possibility that someone will get punched in the face.

Pete frowns but sinks to the floor without another word. The concrete floor is hard and cold under his knees. They're probably going to be sore later. Patrick has one hand curled loosely around his dick and he brings the other to Pete's face, tips his chin up. 

"I'm not going to choke you. I promise," he says, trailing his fingers along Pete's jaw.

Pete doesn't say anything but he nods slightly. He knows Patrick would never hurt him. But even still he closes his eyes as Patrick pushes the head of his dick into his mouth. He remembers to breathe through his nose as he starts to suck lightly. Above him, he hears Patrick making soft little sighs. 

He opens his eyes and looks up when he hears, "Oh god. _Pete_."

Patrick's got his head tipped back against the wall, his mouth open slightly, his eyes closed. Pete replaces the hand Patrick still has wrapped around himself with one of his own and takes a little more into his mouth, hollows his cheeks experimentally. 

Patrick groans, bringing both hands to Pete's head. Pete waits for it, but Patrick doesn't push him down, just threads his fingers in Pete's hair, tugging gently. Pete's dick twitches and he reaches down to rub himself through his underwear. He finds that the harder he sucks, the harder Patrick tugs on his hair. Pete's dangerously close to coming and from the way Patrick sounds, Pete doesn't think he's too far off either.

Pete pulls off and runs his tongue over the head a couple of times. Patrick does that to him all the time and it drives him crazy. Patrick groans as his hips buck forward. He tightens his fingers in Pete's hair and Pete's eyes are actually beginning to water but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, "Fuck, Patrick. Harder."

Patrick looks down at him, a surprised look on his face at first which quickly turns into a smirk.

"Get up here then," he says before yanking Pete up off his knees. And that time Pete almost does come in his underwear as he stumbles, trying to get himself upright fast as he can. Patrick's hands are already at his hips, pushing his boxers down. Next they're sliding around to grip his ass and pull him in close as Pete shoves his hips against Patrick's, his face buried in the crook of Patrick's neck.

"Please, please, please," he repeats over and over against Patrick's skin.

"It's okay," Patrick breathes. "It's okay, I got you." He thrusts up against Pete and then Pete's coming hard and shaking a little afterward. He barely notices when Patrick's hips stop moving against his.

"You okay?" Patrick asks afterward. It's all Pete can do to lift his head and nod. Patrick kisses him softly and says, "Come on, we'd better get going."

On the way back to the van, Patrick stops at a row of vending machines, gestures for Pete to go on ahead before they incur the wrath of the others. Though, they seem to have done that anyway.

"It's your turn to drive, asshole. That was more than fifteen minutes," Andy tells him as he hands him the keys.

When Patrick finally climbs into the passenger seat next to Pete, he hands him a bottle of Coke. Pete takes a swig before settling into the cup holder and starting the van.

"Any particular reason for the free soda?" Pete asks as they drive away.

Patrick clicks his seat belt into place and says, "Thought you might have a bad taste in your mouth."

Pete laughs. He knew there was a reason he loved this kid.


End file.
